


Hold me down (so I don't break)

by 44TayLo



Series: Remind Me [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Bruce Banner's Sad Backstory, Emotional Sex, Hand Jobs, M/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 15:15:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16935642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/44TayLo/pseuds/44TayLo
Summary: “'What can I do?' Tony’s voice cut through the barrage of pain, non-imagined and self-made.He didn’t feel like he was in his own skin. And yet, he also knew he would never be able to escape himself. He swallowed hard. 'Fuck me,'”Sometimes, what you think you want isn't what you need.





	Hold me down (so I don't break)

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time posting smut, which is crazy to me. This is one of those fics that just kind of happened. It's only been edited once, and it isn't beta-read. I'll probably edit it again tomorrow.

There were few things that could make him spin out of control so quickly. Bruce grasped at the rope he’d tied around his neck, desperately trying to keep it in place, but only succeeding in burning his palms. Damp sheets tangled his legs, restricting movement and setting off more neurons in his brain that collectively screamed at him to _“run!”_

 

He scrabbled at his chest, his neck. The rope had started to feel more corporeal, less like a metaphor, some time ago.

 

Static descended upon his brain. Thoughts only existed for fleeting moments, before they were swept up by panic. Maybe that was why he couldn’t hear the soft voice next to him, right away. Maybe it was because he wasn’t used to being treated so gently. 

It was Tony’s voice. Of course it was, because he was in their shared bed. He twisted around, pawing blindly for the warm body that was surely next to him. As soon as he made contact with flesh, Tony pulled him into his arms. It helped dull the words. Normally, it would drown them out completely. Not this time.

 

Whispered insults, a father lashing out, labels that stuck to him and rung true no matter how far he ran.

_Freak, monster, murderer, should never have been born, wrong, broken, it should have been you, blood pouring onto the pavement, it should have been you!_

 

“What can I do?” Tony’s voice cut through the barrage of pain, non-imagined and self-made.

He didn’t feel like he was in his own skin. And yet, he also knew he would never be able to escape himself. He swallowed hard. “Fuck me,” he whispered into the dark. His voice shook, but he didn’t sound uncertain. Forcing his eyes to focus, he assessed Tony’s reaction. Unsure, concerned, confused. Bruce could hazard a guess as to why; he’d never requested something like this, before.

“Hold me down. And just…” he broke off, swallowing hard again in between anguished breaths. He needed this. He needed to know he was alive. He needed someone to use him, to show him that he could be good for something, even if it was only a quick fuck.

“You want it rough?” Tony whispered.

Bruce could tell his breathing was becoming louder, threatening to break into sobs. He didn’t expect to feel better, so much as placated, when Tony’s hold turned from comforting to businesslike. He felt neither, the sharp sting of shame and unwanted validation that he was truly worthless thrumming through him, instead. Tony maneuvered his hands above his head and pinned them against the mattress with one hand, while the other reached into Bruce’s boxers and wrapped around his dick in a manner that felt devoid of intimacy. Tony was still lying beside him so that their only two points of contact were from his hands.

 

The voices grew louder.

 

Hot, straining tears slid down his cheeks. That, somehow, was more comforting than Tony’s hands on him. At least tears meant he was still human.

“You want me to punish you?” Tony asked. He sounded disinterested, casual, like he was talking about the weather.

Bruce’s sobbing stuttered. He blinked the tears away to once again stare at Tony’s expression. Gone was the confusion, replaced by cold indifference. Bruce closed his eyes and nodded.

“You want me to use you?”

Bruce nodded again, but refused to reopen his eyes.

He was released, the bed dipped, and Bruce was left wondering how he could possibly be so worthless Tony wouldn’t even want to use him for his own pleasure. Those thoughts were scattered when the bed dipped again, and Tony straddled his waist, hand returning to pin the hands that hadn’t moved. He covered his mouth, but the bruising, mechanical kiss Bruce anticipated didn’t come. Tony’s lips instead moved against his own in gentle, reverent, pleas.

 

Before he could protest, Tony’s lips released him to brush over the tear tracks marring his face.

“Never.”

 

Fierce, determined, solid. That one word set fire to the voices in Bruce’s head and left him keening. Tony sucked at his neck, and Bruce’s hips bucked up of their own accord.

“Shh. It’s okay,” Tony assured him, his breath hot in his ear, before kissing him there, too. Bruce couldn’t help but jerk again when Tony’s free hand, now pleasantly slick, grasped him. He stroked him, firmly but gently, and continued blessing his skin with feather-light touches.

He didn’t deserve this. He was useless, a monster, what was Tony even getting out of this?

“Everything,” Tony answered, and Bruce realized he’d been talking aloud. “This, you, it’s everything. Look at me.”

 

Bruce did.

 

Tony’s face was unguarded, and in it, Bruce could see how Tony saw him. He was staring at him like he was something precious. Something to be protected and cared for.

“I love you.”

Bruce easily broke the hold on his wrists. He buried a hand in Tony’s hair as he surged up to kiss him, fingers running through the dark strands and lips moving in a way he hoped told Tony everything he couldn’t articulate.

He whimpered as Tony quickened his pace. He was close, so damn close. Bruce could hear his breath again, but this time it was as labored pants.

“Let go. I’ve got you, let go.”

He could. He trusted Tony, loved Tony. Everything was fine. He could feel the warmth of Tony’s hand and of his impending orgasm. He was safe, he was loved, he was—

 

“You’re so good, Bruce.”

Bruce moaned and came and sobbed Tony’s name. 

 

The first thing he noticed when he was once again aware of his surroundings was Tony’s absence. Startled, he looked up in time to see him walk out of the bathroom with a towel in hand. He stayed silent as Tony cleaned him up, and silent still when he climbed back into bed and wrapped him in his arms. He had worth, he had purpose, and he knew he was exactly where he belonged. And Tony knew him well enough that nothing needed to be said between them.

 

Still, when Tony kissed his temple, he mumbled, “Love you, too,” just in case Tony had missed it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!


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